Speech! Speech!

Putonghua Speech Celebration 013
Originally uploaded by sandychiuyl

The count down is on. Today was my third to last day of work. It was the last Wednesday of Dan on the floor. It was my second, "this is my last court appearance day." It was, oh, you get the picture.

Last week I thought it was my last hurrah at court. The commissioner even came down from her bench to give me a hug. Then I walk right back into her court room again. The court reporter looked at me and smile, "Dan, didn't we already say goodbye to you?" Yes, but just like Cher, Barbra, Tina or Celine, this is my goodbye tour! A coworker of mine was out of town, and she asked me to appear in court for her. She had double set hearings, in two different court rooms. Most would find this to be quite stressful. Not me. I love it. To me, there is nothing like wheeling and dealing jurisdictional language with attorneys. It's what I do best. It's also what I will greatly miss. When we got into the court room, I sat at the table, and the attorney to my right looked at me with surprise. "Dan, your leaving?" I looked down at the table, and there was a flyer announcing my departure, and inviting everyone to join in on a gathering for drinks at the corner piano bar. It's happening next week, and I am looking forward to this.

Today at the office, there was the usual gathering in the middle of the floor, where all of our 4th floor celebrations occur. As a rule I try to avoid these mid-week gatherings, as I don't usually like to socialize much. A friend took me to lunch, and we were running late, and almost missed the Goodbye Celebration for Dan. There was a delicious chocolate cake, and a gathering of my peers. Many nice words were shared, with everyone singing my praises. This list of praises got a bit out of hand, so my good friend George decided to add her own praise to the list. "And I think Dan even invented Child Welfare!" I laughed so hard, as the whole thing was a bit much. Okay, I contributed during these last 21 years, but I didn't walk on water.

"Speech, Speech!"

It always comes to this. That is why I avoid these types of things. Not that I'm afraid to speak in public. Quite the opposite. While I tend to be kind of quiet, I have no problem when it comes to addressing the masses. These were my people. I needed to leave them with something. Right? What a responsibility. You don't just walk out the building without leaving some sentiment behind.

What struck me most about this moment was that everyone was happy. Everyone was genuinely pleased that I was doing this for myself. They are all aware of the loss I have suffered, and have been amazingly supportive of me during the two years of battling Michael's cancer, and especially during these past 10 months. And this is where my speech began.

Today I said my formal goodbye to my San Francisco family. I told them how much I have appreciated that they have always had my back. Through each of these hardships, I knew that I could count on any of them. I respect each of them for all of their dedication and hard work. When you are a civil servant, you don't always get much praise. There isn't an end of the year bonus. You are expected to do more than your share, then you are expected to do even more. I wanted each of them to know that they have given me an enormous gift with their loving support. They have provided me an environment where I can continue to do my work, yet also attend to my family's needs. Many of these people went to graduate school with me, so we have been at this for over 23 years together. This is why this was not an easy choice to make. I wasn't just quitting a job. I am taking all that they have given me, and I am using that support to propel myself forward.

While I am feeling quite overwhelmed by all the work here at the house to be ready for next weeks move, I am very grateful for the launching pad that these wonderful people have provided. I am truly fortunate.

Home Alone

Home Alone 1 Macaulay Culkin
Originally uploaded by clactonradio

Just when I thought I could donate no more, I managed to fill another truck load. I have an SUV, which holds quite a bit. I was sharing my strategy of giving away half of what I own to a coworker today. She thought this was a good, and wise, way of moving. I realized tonight that maybe giving things away is becoming too easy. Many of these things that occupied my house are now meaningless to me. It's not that I don't value them, but I have become so immune to loss, so losing more doesn't really phase me.

All day the reality of my decisions were really making me sad. Throughout the day my coworkers would come up to me to ask if I was excited about my move. Up until today I always smiled and said yes, quite enthusiastically. Today I would just nod, and say that it is what's best for me. I couldn't help but think that none of this should be happening. I never would have expected to leave my job, or to leave the Bay Area. Then again, I never really prepared myself for losing Michael.

I got home from work about 5:30 pm, and got right to work. I spent the first hour loading up my SUV with things. Every time I turned around and looked at the save pile, I would go through it once again, and make myself put more in the car. I stopped when there was no room left. I then came upstairs and had a bite to eat, and watched a little bit of "Home Alone" with my son Remy. It felt quite surreal. "Home Alone" in July? It's a Christmas story. After my meal break I got busy packing the kitchen. I did this until 9 pm, then decided I needed to stop. As I came down to my room the tears started. The weight of my decisions, and the emotional toll of all this work has taken a hold on me. This is an enormous task that I have taken on. Yesterday I traded Facebook messages with my sister-in-law. She was telling me that she and my brother are also busy packing to move into their new home, so she sympathized with me. I couldn't help but think about how they are sharing this responsibility, yet here I am doing all this alone.

These days all I can think about is how alone I am. I don't mean to forget my lovely children, but the alone I feel is that of being alone without another adult to share in all of this. They boys have been totally absorbed in their Playstations, which is fine with me. This way I don't feel like I'm neglecting them while I do all this packing. Yet the counter to that is that I feel so alone in the house.

What I need to remember is that when I arrive in San Diego I will be met by several good friends who are wanting to help unload. I will also be able to go see my parents as soon as I have settled everything into the house. I look forward to spending a lot of time with my extended family and friends this summer. Perhaps with all of these people just two hours away, I will not be feeling quite so alone at home.

To keep, or not to keep. That is the question.

Packing
Originally uploaded by RLHyde

It is better to give, than to keep. Right?

Today was another day of packing more things into boxes, and placing them into storage. This plan I have, of putting everything into storage once boxed up, has really helped me manage the process. I am able to see what is left to do, and to best gage how much stuff I have, and how much stuff I don't need.

Last week I had boxed up all of the books, photo albums and files from my bedroom. It was a mixture of our things. I decided not to try and sort through these things, as they are not crucial at this time. Once those boxes were in storage I knew what needed to be done next. I had been avoiding it long enough. I needed to decide what to do with Michael's clothing. I had already alerted his mother that I would be placing his clothing into boxes for donation. She had previously asked me to pick what I wanted to keep, then she would take the rest to donate to a hospice store near her home. When I checked in with her last week she said I should go ahead and donate them here in San Francisco.

I took my time, folding each piece of clothing very carefully. I put aside those items that had sentimental value, then went through those items and filtered them once again. I reminded myself that they were just things, and that other men could find great benefit in his clothing. I have often had clients who participated in the Salvation Army's programs for men who are trying to turn their lives around. I know that many of them are given job and interview skills training, and then need a nice suit when they go out looking for jobs. This is what I told myself as I folded all of Michael's suits and dress shirts, and placed them into the boxes.

I kept having this conversation with Michael. I reminded him that he no longer needed all of these things, and that he would be helping so many other young men by giving them away. I have always donated anything that I haven't used during the prior year. It has been a rule I adopted, many years ago, and one I stick to. Michael was of the rule that he should put things away for a rainy day. He always said, "you never know." He often liked to pack up his winter clothing for safe keeping until the following year. As you might guess, his things took up most of our closet and basement storage area. We used to laugh, because the more I got rid of things, the more his things got moved into my side of the closet.

I hope he understands, and if he doesn't, it's high time he did. Yes, even after death I'm trying to change my man. Not an easy feat, as Michael could be quite stubborn. But that was part of his charm I guess.

I'm finding that I am able to do all of this with a matter of fact attitude these days. I feel like it was the perfect time to move some of his things on. As a matter of fact, I was able to move two car loads of our things on today. I think it is my 8th car load of donations since I began packing up the house. I'm really trying to stick with my resolve to give away anything not used in the last year. I have also tried to give away half of everything we had in this house. I don't want to feel burdened by objects from our past. I want to carry forward those things that really mean something, and not cling to other things just for the sake of holding on to them.

I'm finding this process quite freeing.

July Memories

2007 SF Fireworks from USS Hornet
Originally uploaded by Thomas Ricard

Let's keep this brief tonight. It's July 4th, and I keep thinking that Michael was still alive on this night last year. I don't think in these terms all the time, it just hits me on certain days. Coming up soon is the first wedding anniversary of my niece. I remember last July, wondering if we would make it to the wedding. I had bought flight tickets for the whole family, but had been arranging for the kids to fly on their own, as Michael hadn't been feeling very good about this time. In the end we did go, and we had a wonderful time. I remember hearing how some at the wedding were amazed to see me and Michael out there on the dance floor. Everyone knew that Michael's health had made a turn for the worst, and yet there he was kicking up his heals. After he died some people couldn't believe that the person they saw having a good time at the wedding, was now dead. My niece later sent me a picture of Michael and I at the wedding, which was very sweet of her. I think it was the last picture we took together, and I'm very fond of it.

Today is also the birthday of my best friend. She lives on the east coast, so we don't get too see each other very often. Yet in recent years there have been more opportunities than usual. About 6 months prior to our wedding, Michael and I took a trip to Provincetown. While on the east coast we made our way to visit my friend and her family in Connecticut. We had a really good time. They later came out for our wedding, and stayed on a few days so we could have a nice visit. After Michael died, my friend, Peg, decided that rather than come for the memorial, she would come the month after. You see, she knew that I would be needing a friend to talk to, as she was also widowed many years before. The one thing she remembered from her experience, was how everyone seems to disappear just when you need them the most. I really appreciated her doing that for me, and our visit was perfect. During the time of the memorial I was completely numb and shell-shocked. In the weeks that followed I started to feel things more deeply, and needed some company. I will also be seeint her this August in San Diego.

In the next couple of weeks will be my father's birthday, and Michael's mother's birthday. Although I won't be down south by the time my father's birthday comes around, I will be there shortly afterward. I look forward to sitting with him in his home, and sharing our memories of Michael. I do hope to visit with Michael's mother before I leave. I want to be sure to give her the birthday honor she deserves. She gave so much to Michael over the years, but especially during his last few months. His mother stayed here with us for most of the summer, and it was such a loving honor to share in his care with her.

July, full of memories.

Rambling

Reaching Out
Originally uploaded by * Honest *

Today I got a lot accomplished. I was able to give away some more of my things, do some cleaning, and do a lot more packing. Progress.


In the late afternoon I decided it was a good time to watch a video I had purchased awhile back. It is called "Young Widow. Naked in the Memorial Playground" by Elizabeth Titus. Elizabeth had left me a message on my Facebook account, and thought I would benefit from viewing her documentary. It is a collection of sorts, with various widows and widowers sharing their stories, and talking about their individual experiences with grief. It also has short breaks were she is asking people on the street their perceptions of what a widow is like, and how long should one grieve.


I found this documentary to be very affirming. It is comforting to hear from others who are going through this, especially others who are a bit further along in their journey toward healing. This is not to say that we all go through the same process, or in the same time frame, but hearing from others does allow us to feel validated.


This also makes me think of the amazing influence the web has on each of us today. When I think of the people who have become my core means of support and understanding these past 9 months, I don't take for granted the fact that they are spread throughout the world. While these online relationships are not quite the same as having someone physically sitting with you while you talk, they take up the enormous slack that we know as our isolation.


I know that each of us plays a part in each other's day to day journey, if only by bearing witness to each other's words. As for me, I have become somewhat isolated by choice. Yes, it is probably not what I would have necessarily wanted, or recommended to someone in my situation, but it is where I find myself. What we find in losing our spouses, is that the others around us need to move on, almost immediately. It really isn't their place to anticipate all of our needs, or to even understand the depths of our pain. So much of it needs to be done alone, at least that is my experience. I am almost at 10 months out, and when I look back at the person I have become, I see someone who needs quiet and stillness. Sometimes I need the quiet in order to hear my own heart beat. I need to know that I am still alive. In movies we sometimes see depictions of those lost souls who are trapped between this world and the next. These souls are often thought to be the dearly departed, who have unfinished business, or just need more time before leaving this world. But it's been my experience that I am one of those lost souls trapped between this world and the next. Only with time, I find that I am finding my way back to this world.


It's thoughts like this that sometimes has me wondering if Michael is still around here, in some kind of parallel existence. Perhaps we are unaware of each other's presence. I lay here at night, still longing for him. I still sleep on only my side of the bed, and always have my arm stretched out where he should be. I wonder if he is on his side of the bed, wondering where I am, with his arm reaching out for me. Could that be why I feel such loneliness? Is is that I am feeling the cumulative longing from each of us?


Just something to think about. Obviously I am rambling tonight. I suppose it's my restless spirit needing to express itself.

Good Fortune

100 Good Fortune - White Lotuses
Originally uploaded by artwaken

This morning an announcement went out at the office about my impending departure. Some friends already knew about it, but I have been otherwise rather quiet about it. I tend to be kind of unassuming at work. I am friendly, and try to help out my peers, but for the most part would be considered private. So I found myself being asked the same questions over and over again. "Why are you leaving?" Of course some know that I lost my husband this past year, but there are also many more who don't know. To them this probably doesn't make sense. Why would someone who is heading down the homestretch decide to jump ship.

With all the attention, and excitement that filled my day, I had one of those moments where I completely disconnected from the reality that Michael is gone. I had gone to the men's room to wash my hands before lunch, and looked up at myself in the mirror and thought, I can't wait to get home to tell Michael about my day. It was all of just a few seconds, but it cut me like a knife. Rather than continue out to go pick up my lunch, I found my way back to my cubicle, and laid my head on my desk.

Reality sucks.

On another note, I am making two people very happy tomorrow. In my basement are my prized gym equipment, and an antique stove, I have had for many years. I decided today that rather than sell them, I would feel better about giving them to someone who really wanted them. I know this make little sense to others around me, but it is something I can feel good about. Both of these things meant so much to me over the years, that having to bargain them down with someone felt disgraceful. I'm feeling that way about so many other things around here. I have a whole room full of Michael's clothing. I don't know why I continue to hold onto them when someone could be getting some good use out of them. Having them hanging in my closet, or in every drawer doesn't make Michael more alive for me. I do have a few things that I will keep, and I still wear his pajamas and big t-shirts around the house. In that way I feel comfort, but I can still have that, and give the rest to charity. I know there are many men out there looking for jobs, and many of them would have more confidence if they were wearing some of Michael's nice suits, shirts and ties.

I guess you could say I am in a giving mood. A strange place to be, given that so much was taken from me. But I have to remember not to wallow too much in my pain, as there are those who still have much need. And there is still so much I can do to help. It doesn't take much to make someone else feel good. Sometimes good fortune just falls onto you. Maybe one day, I will be the recipient of someone else's generosity. Maybe good fortune is headed my way.

Pass the Buck

The humiliation that we must go through for a measly buck.

Last October, after my husband had only been dead for one month, I decided I'd better begin the lengthy process of getting his estate in order. He had left me designated as the executor of his will. It was a time that my days had me completely lost in a fog. After the kids left for school, I sat on the living room couch, and stared straight across the room for hours. Once in awhile someone would stop by to check on me, and I would be briefly distracted, but then return to my catatonic state. By early evening I would finish up with the kids' dinner, homework, and do some laundry. When they were off to bed, or occupied with other things, I would find my way down to our bedroom, where I would collapse onto the floor heaving and crying for hours. Sometimes the kids would come into my bedroom to hold me, other times I was alone. I didn't sleep, and this continued throughout the night. The next morning I would repeat this routine.

This gives you some perspective as to my state of mind. Yet in spite of this, I began the tedious process, as I knew the I was to make financial arrangements for Michael's family. In the months prior to Michael's quick decline, we worked with his attorney, getting his affairs in order. Part of this included trying to get his retirement office to update his beneficiary information. Michael felt that it would be easiest for his life insurance money to fund an educational trust for his family, and leave other funds, like his retirement, to the kids and me. I began calling the various offices where he was employed. Most worked with me fairly well, and guided me when it was obvious that I was working with limited clarity. Unfortunately for me, his retirement office was not so kind, or thorough. I kept being transferred to different extensions, being told that this person, or that person, would call me back. As time went on it was obvious that these calls were being ignored. Eventually I gave up.

This past February I decided that I should go through all of Michael's records once again. That's when I realized that I had forgotten about this situation. I contacted the retirement office to try to retrace my prior steps. Again, began the transferring of calls. Eventually I just drove there, about 45 miles north of here, to take care of it in person. I handed them the death certificate, and asked what else was needed. "We will get back to you." Right. Now I know that I am overly sensitive right now, but I feel they could have been a little sensitive with me. What happened, was me being told I was not the beneficiary. Yes I know. We tried every month this past spring to get you to change the records. Besides I am his surviving spouse. "Were you legally married?" Of course. "We will need a copy of you marriage license so that our attorneys can look into this matter."

A month or two later I was told, "okay, we are told that as the surviving spouse, you are entitled to his retirement funds. If you want them you will need to formally send us a written request." Don't you have a form you can send me. "No, send us your request." That is about the time I sank into my deep depression. It's hard to believe from where I stand today, but I was really suicidal. Finally I came out of my deep depression, and sent them the letter in mid May. For the past few weeks I have been calling, asking if they got my request. I asked if they would please let me know. Silence. In time I began speaking with their two clerks several times a week. They began to recognize my voice. "Oh, so and so is not in, but you can leave a message." Oh, thanks. This has gone on up until today. Finally I had enough, and politely asked the clerk if there was an office manager, as I was tired of being ignored. The administrator I was transferred to began the conversation nicely, but quickly cut me off to say that it would take time to figure this out, and he will call me tomorrow.

No, you will call me today. Twenty minutes later he called to say that I have been leaving messages for the wrong person, that she doesn't handle this type of claim. Then why was I transferred to her over and over again? Then why couldn't she call me to explain this? That's when he cut me off, saying that I had waited too long to send in my request, and that I need to understand that they have been downsized due to budget problems, and I need to be patient, and understanding. What? That's when we got disconnected. Four phone calls later, I finally got him back on the phone. "Oh, I thought you hung up on me." No, why would I hang up on you? He then began telling me again that I need to be patient, and I should have taken care of this a long time ago. I stopped, and asked if he was at all interested in what I was trying to say. I pointed out that he had interrupted me every time I tried to speak. He finally said "I'm sorry, go ahead." I'm not asking you to speed up the process. I just want some acknowledgement that you received my request, and to let me know if you have everything you need. I also need to let you know that I am moving in two week, so if it is going to take some time, they will need my new address. He then said he would guarantee that this gets handled within the next two weeks. "Besides, we are only giving you the funds he contributed, and the interest on those funds." Was that really needed?

We are not talking about a lot of money here. Michael only worked at this job for a year before he got sick, then another nine months until he could no longer work. So please give me his parting gifts and I'll be on my way.

I had to deal with this while at work, and fortunately, most of my peers were out of the office. I was angry, and humiliated. I was made to feel like a greedy little person, who didn't really deserve to receive these funds, or to be bothered with. It's really a shame. Just a couple of months ago I participated in the Brain Tumor Walk with all the people Michael directly worked with. They were all so wonderful and kind. What a difference a cubicle makes.

All this for a lousy buck.